Meeting again
by startwriting
Summary: This was bound to happen somehow, all living and working in Denver. Yet time and place surprised all three of them. This is about 'meeting again' in more ways than one. A little drama, romance and some spice. Four parts in four days, day three and four added.
1. Chapter 1

Lots of thanks to the Yahoo!group, that's full of inspiration and nice people who gave me this idea.

And thanks to my beta! She's studying English, and I think she did a great job.

This is about 'Meeting again', in more ways than one. A little drama, romance and some spice. Four parts in four days, starting today. Have fun (I have).

**Meeting again**

_This was bound to happen, all working and living in Denver. Yet time and place surprised all three of them. _

Denver, Octobre 10th, 1990

Gently, the eminence of his appearance oozed through the hallway. He was noticed. Some people knew who he was, some only recognized his familiair face, others just watched him because he stood out. Tall, heavy, but sophisticated with a demeanour that demanded respect. The heavy reliance on his cane wasn't unusual for someone his age. Age that had not been gentle to him at a physical level, causing him pain and inconvenience now, but instigated by a life fully lived and fully enjoyed. The years of thrilling, at times litteral hunts for justice, days and nights, accompanied by truthful friends had indeed taken their toll. But he was fine with it.

He had lived, and was still living life to the fullest. Enjoying it in great lengths, still looking forward to every single next day, his sense of humour washing away thoughts about bad times and irreversible mistakes. He thought regret was a waste of time, happiness was a choice which could be actively created by people themselves, and decisions based on intuition mostly turned out for the best. Apart from all the philosophical truths that he had come across, and had conveyed if he thought necessary, he had found one evident truth that had proven to be more truthful than any other. Working and living with Della Street was a lifelengthening event as well as a very pleasant activity, never a mistake, and fortunately, very irreversible.

Even if it sometimes meant waiting for her in the hall of Denver's General Hospital for a while.

Stretching his back before slowly sitting down on the comfortable black leather arm chair, he leaned his cane against the arm chair on his right side. She had told him to wait here for her. Not even trying to convince her otherwise, because he knew it wouldn't make any difference, he had asked her what time her appointment would end. She had given him the time, in her voice a hint of appreciation because he hadn't tried to persuade her to take him with her to the doctor. But Della Street had said 'no', which meant 'no'. He knew her all too well to argue.

He chewed on his inner cheeks, not sure if he should be worried about her. She had said she'd be 'fine, just fine' and had called it 'just a minor female issue'. But this 'minor female issue' had already meant six weeks of refraining very unvoluntarily from having her, which had been not 'fine, just fine' at all.

Mutual jokes and remarks be damned, he ached for her. Not for just sex. For her. He fumbled with the fingers of his left hand, then let them rest on his chin, very aware of the stirring in his body, that didn't have anything to do with need for food. Six weeks. Six weeks, not _without_ her soft sighs or ditto hands on him, but _with_ these sensual treats, mostly after something that started as just an innocent, pristine kiss. It had made it deliriously difficult to not listen and to not give in to the messages that were sent throughout them both. It had made them vulnerable.

Humouring themselves, they had been testing and teasing eachother. " There are other ways, you know, " she had said to his ear at particular moments, as if he didn't know. As if they hadn't fully explored and challenged that part of their loving lust in just the last couple of decades. Yet, as they had also found out before, there was nothing like the real thing.

He held his forehead in his hand, and felt the deepening creases in the skin. He massaged them as if he could actually match her techniques to soften the lines. Her soft hands, the long slender graceful fingers, that according to everyone who cared to have an opinion, pressumably lacked the golden band he should have given her decades ago. They were so mistaken. She'd still whisper to him how she considered they married every single time they made love. Not one experience had ever brought them closer together, not one ring, not one signature, not even a softly spoken sentence. And he couldn't agree more.

Had agreed always actually. The agreement had arrived together with her in his life. There was a very clear line in his life involving this specific matter, seperating his life with her from the part of his life without her. In his young days, the evil and harshness of people's crimes had more than once driven him into random female soft and warm arms, when he wanted to forget, wanted to be primal, wearing himself out physically, drinking heavily, swallowing hang-overs, beating thoughts of evil and harm. It had made him able to process and move on.

But that was until Della Street had reached out for him with teary eyes after a devastating case that had ended after the accused, depressed defendant had killed himself. She had accepted Perry's hungry mouth and hands, while whispering that they shouldn't and couldn't. She had kept on whispering the words over and over, even when she had explored his naked body with experienced hands, had pulled him to her, had arched under his hands to make him worship her and more, had urged him to have her.

" I love you … " the timbre, the tones, the words and their pure meaning had hit him, from the first time up to this day. But especially then it had spiralled him to an unknown height at lightening speed before he was gently brought back to sanity on waves of soft sighs. Grasping her, he'd held her close, so she had felt and heard the blood racing through his veins, the subsiding pounding of his heart against her warm cheeks, wet of tears, but with a smile. At that moment he realised they hadn't just had sex, but had made love. Never had he thought it would be this way, and as her need was obviously the same he threw himself into her arms, that grew warmer with everytime they made love, even if they shouldn't. Especially if they shouldn't.

He smiled. _'We shouldn't.'_ Still, to this day these words just kept spurring them on. Even now, when their rythm had somewhat subsided,_ 'we can't'_ and _'we shouldn't'_ were ignitions. As if the negation wasn't there.

In an attempt to whipe the both recalling and anticipating sinful grin from his face, his hand rubbed his eyelids, and went downwards over his cheeks and beard. The grin however, did not leave his eyes.

At the other side of the hall, two slender female hands tightened their grip at the armrests of a chair. Just a very small wave of his cologne, still the same cologne. It had reached her and had made her darkbrown eyes look up from the newspaper in front of her on the table. She stopped breathing when she saw him walking by.

The tailored three piece dark grey suit as well as the crisp white shirt underneath, the evident cuff links, his watch, pinky ring, the greyish beard, the cane, were all so definetely Perry Mason now, that it was hard for her to remember what he had looked like in the old days.

She knew the man himself called these days now his 'old days'. Working with timelines in his sharp, close to photographic mind, it was more logical to him to adjust his vocabulary that way. What happened earlier, was 'young', what happened now, was 'old'. She knew that. She knew how his mind worked. She had known him before these days, his old days, had started.

Now his stare through the hallway was arrogant, the hint of a grin taking the edge of the coldness in his eyes. Not deliberately arrogant, this was just his way of taking in his surroundings. Always had been. Nowadays, probably still, she thought, this gaze would only soften automatically for children, and for one particular woman. That one woman was not near him now. A soft pensive smile tugged at her lips, when she realised that she indeed had scanned the hallway for Della Street's presence, at the same moment his scent had reached her. Della Street and Perry Mason, two parts of a whole, something she had already accepted unconsciously, but still could not understand while consciously thinking in terms of carreers, backgrounds and education.

Trying to control her shaking hands, she fumbled with her fingers. What was it that made this man still so mercilessly attractive to her? He was old, he was big. His younger days, the times his handsome appearance turned many heads, both female and male, were long, long gone, or weren't they? What was it that made her want to throw herself at him, even now? Wanting to be held by him, loved by him, to be physical without one word spoken? Were it the memories of their few nights spend together, laughing, drinking, discussing and, loving?

She swallowed. Images, emotions. And treason.

If he only knew how hard she had tried to come to terms with her life without him, wishing him all the best, but all the time still believing that she would suit so well in his life, because she knew and respected his ways, and how his mind worked.

Folding the newspaper in front of her, she realised again she had never stopped loving him, just paused it. Postponed it.

Against better judgement, she stood up to be closer.

Not ready to see his eyes yet, she leaned her figure towards the back of the chair next to him. " Would you drink a cup of coffee if I put it in front of you? "

He recognized the rich accent and the overseas tones immediately. He reacted stoically, without any hint of surprise. " No." It was the appropriate response, even though her last treason towards him had taken place over three years ago. " I don't want to end up like Socrates … "

" That's brutish, Perry … I wouldn't poison you. " Without any humour, she added " What if I drank from it first ? "

" Drinking from my cup? " he threw her a short stern look from aside.

" Kind of. To prove it's safe. I'm safe. " She avoided his eyes, fully aware of the metaphorical meaning he had silently added to his words. With gracious moves that allowed her heavy perfume to embrace him shortly, she walked towards the chair opposite of him, and sank down on it. He shivered as if to shake off her nearness. Thinking about, wanting, needing Della Street, while being in the presence of Laura Robertson-Martin caused short-circuiting sensations in his mind.

Continuing the metaphor, his low voice stated " We stopped drinking from eachothers cups a long time ago, Laura. And, you might remember, that was not without reason. "

Watching her while she crossed her legs, he snorted at her bluntness. She had just sat down in front of him, as if he had invited her to do so, as if he was welcoming her company. No questions considered, let alone asked.

" Yes, do please sit down. "

She immediately stood up. " Oh, I'm sorry, Perry. Do you want me to leave? "

" No. " Somewhat taken away by her demure reaction, he watched the swing doors behind her, while pointing at them. " I just want to be able to see those doors. "

" Waiting for someone? "

" Yes. "

" Is she all right? "

" She is finding out about that now. "

" You didn't go with her? "

" No. " There was no reason at all to explain himself, but he did. " She's a very private person. If it's important, she'll tell me. If not, I'll never know. " He added softly " And I won't ask. "

" I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ... " She stopped. He was silent. She decided to say something she should have said years ago. " I'm sorry for a lot of things, Perry. " He just stared at her, showing no emotion at all. " I had a lot of time to think about things. You must despise me. You have every right to. "

" I don't despise people, Laura. I despise some of their behaviour. I despised yours. I still don't fully understand. "

" I guess I did what I thought was right at that moment. Like I always do. "

" And what did you gain? " He asked her, watching his hands.

Annoyed by his presumptuous attitude, she snapped at him " Gain from what? Gain from life? " She looked sidewards and inhaled firmly. " What did you gain from life, Perry? Money ? "

" Money … " he snorted.

His reaction annoyed her even more. " Don't you work your fabled magnanimous attitude on me. You're not a saint, Perry. I know you. You know how important it is to have money. You taught me yourself. You told me how it can be very useful to buy yourself into business or whatever, if not litteral, then figuratively speaking. "

_I used money like you used your body. _" I never said it wasn't important. It is very convenient to have money, we've always agreed on that. "

" What did I gain from life … " Contemplating on the question, he fumbled with his fingers while looking at them. Then he softly chuckled. " Weight. "

" Hmm-mm. " There was no point in denying that.

" Love. " The word shook her hard, all the way into her core. " Yes. "

" And so did you. " His low voice hit her again, though the words were meant to heal, and came out softly.

_If you only realised._ " It's hard to hang on to that, Perry, now that he … " These tears were genuine. Who knew? Maybe she had changed. He handed her a neatly folded handkerchief. The other handkerchief was still tucked away safely, hidden inside his suitjacket. That one was there for his own reassurance, for circumstances in which he needed a hand without being able to actually grab or hold it. It wasn't his. Though the owner would probably have approved if he had used it now, under these circumstances, he had granted the lady in front of him the spare one.

" How is Glenn now? " he queried, watching her regaining a steady appearance.

" Well … nothing really changed. He's still in a coma. No improvement, no deterioration. Chances are very small that he'll wake up in the next few months. Or ever. " She twisted the handkerchief. " There is not a lot left of him. He is just a body now. "

" I'm sorry. It must be hard for you. "

" You can't imagine, Perry. "

They were silent, momentarily absorbed by their own thoughts.

She was the first to speak again. " Some people were very happy to learn he did sign the divorce papers before he had the stroke. His son was glad anyway. "

" Ah … The stepson. Glenn Junior… How is he doing? Is he coping? "

" I really don't know. " She sighed, stroking her skirt slowly. " We only talk through our lawyers, and only if it's really necessary. I did try to reach him, but he doesn't want to talk to me. " She sighed again. " We've even made a schedule who can visit his father and when, in such a way he doesn't have to meet me. "

" That sounds bad. "

" It is bad. He sometimes hides in the men's room until I'm gone. He was in there for an hour yesterday, because he hadn't noticed I had left already. "

It made Perry laugh, deepening his dimples. She smiled a small smile, and leaned back. Then she started laughing too, shaking her head.

Whiping two stubborn tears from her eyes, she made her rich voice take on a demure tone. " Will there ever be a way we could laugh at what I did to you? "

He leaned back. Talking to Laura still felt as playing chess with a worthy opponent, requiring the ability to foresee unexpected moves. " Give me one good reason why. "

" I could really use a friend right now. "

" A friend? Me? "

" Yes, a friend. Someone who knows me. Someone to talk to, Perry. Someone to listen to me, to cheer me up. "

_All for your own convenience._

He was silent again, thought about his next move and decided to test her. " I have been meaning to ask you something. "

" Yes? "

" I have never been able to find out what you two were talking about, when I barged in. "

She knew exactly what he was talking about. " She has never told you? "

" No. She said it wasn't important. But I think it was. " He watched her thoughtfully. " What were you two talking about? "

She sighed. " I asked her about you and her. About your relationship. " That was the right answer, he knew that of course, and the fact that she was truthful about it surprised him. Yet anger still had the upper hand.

" You asked Della about her and me ? "

" I was less than sensible at the time, Perry. " She touched her hair at the side of her head, combed through it with her fingers in well practised moves. He remembered them. It was a sign that she felt very uncomfortable. He believed she should.

" I'd say … " His jaws tightened. " I can't believe that. I know you saw us together two hours before you spoke to her. "

The remark brought back memories of the sight she had witnessed then, indeed two hours before, but had firmly closed her eyes to immediately afterwards. But she had seen Della Street's delicate hands softly massage Perry's eyes and brows, while he sat back on his chair. The way she had leaned forward over his body had left no doubt whatsoever about the familiairity of the intimacy. He had raised his eyes to hers, visibly relaxing his tightened jaws and shoulders. To this day Laura had not been able to get rid of the images of Miss Street's slightly parted lips brushing his, her hands stroking his beard and then that damned dazzling smile.

It had been that moment Laura had realised the shape and location of Miss Street's barely visible wrinkles were caused by smiling at Perry Mason. Loving him so dearly and so evidently at that moment, when she thought there was no one to see the deep love pouring from her sparkling eyes. Just before Laura had turned to make her nausea subside, she had seen Perry's strong hands travelling upwards underneath the secretary's carefully buttoned jacket. His hands invisible, but obviously so at home and welcome there. Laura had damned herself for being close enough to be able to read the glint of desire in his eyes. It was the rawness of this desire she remembered, as well as what it brought on, if given room and opportunity. Her stomach as well as the parts underneath still clenched at the thought of it, especially now. Her pulse quickened.

Perry pretended not to be aware of the reason of her flushing cheeks, or misread it on purpose. He raised his voice just a little to draw her attention back to him. As if it wasn't with him already.

" You hurt her. I don't know what you said exactly, but you hurt her. "

" Well, she hurt me too, Perry. " She refered to events long gone, yet her temper still shone through. " I don't have to remind you, do I? "

" No, you don't have to remind me. " He sighed, annoyed. " An eye for an eye, right? "

" I chose to live my life that way, yes. "

" And it paid off, didn't it? "

She swallowed hard before standing up. " I have to go, I'm going to see Glenn now. " Her shoulders sunk in when she looked down at him. " How come we always end up this way, Perry? Why is it always about what we didn't have ? "

" Because that's what we did back then. We always emphasized our differences without taking advantage of them, we always emphasized our flaws. We were in constant competition, Laura. That's why it didn't work. "

His eyes drifted off to the other side of the hallway, and his stare softened immediately. She couldn't and didn't want to turn to look in the same direction, knowing who was the center of his attention now. From the corner of her eyes, she noticed the fumbling of his fingers. She remembered the gesture.

Miss Street's loud laughter filled the air, and intertwined with Ken Malansky's hearty chuckling. As much as she wanted to ignore it, there was no possible way to do so anymore.

" Is he your apprentice ? "

" Yes. His name is Ken Malansky. He's assisting me with my cases. He's probably here now to take us to our next assignment. "

" Ken Malansky. I heard about him. He's good. "

" He is. And he's going to take over the firm, so I have to make him even better. "

They stood next to eachother. She took in a deep breath, watching the smiling woman, in her impeccable attire. Purple today, a creamy white elegant scarf draped over her shoulders. " She looks good. "

" Yes. " He stared. " Yes, she does. " The melancholic tone of his sentence was close to wistful.

She turned to walk away.

" Laura? "

" Perry? "

" If you do offer friendship, and I mean real friendship, I'll think about it. "

" Thank you. I'll know where to find you. In time. " She put her hand on his chest. " I'll return your handkerchief. Clean of course. " She smiled a small smile.

" Keep it. " His thoughts were leaving her already. " Take care. "

" Thank you. " But he didn't hear these words. As he wasn't aware of the commotion and panic that would capture the heart of Mrs. Laura Robertson-Martin moments later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Meeting again, 2**

Octobre 11th, 1990

She carried it with grace, but that was how she always seemed to carry things in life, good or bad. She was raised that way. Only the emotions that were appropriate seeped through apparently, and only for as much and for as long as she wanted. Her attire was black, an elegant small bonnet with voile complemented her short, auburn dyed hair. Two black short gloves held a handkerchief, too big, too white, too unelegant to be her own. Della Street glanced at the item and recognized it.

The owner of the handkerchief was the gentleman who had brought her to her home yesterday evening, after a long day. He had asked nothing about her appointment with the doctor yesterday, but had just wanted to know if she was all right. She was. The tests she hadn't told him about, were taken just for precaution yesterday. He had kissed her sweetly, had looked into her eyes. And then he had kissed her again, almost pushing himself over his carefully maintained boundaries of gentlemanness of the last six weeks. The tempting warmth of his gestures and ways was in sharp contrast with the coolness of the sheets she'd had to warm all by herself later. She had decided to sleep alone again, because temptation was still against doctor's orders now. So the devastating news about the sudden death of Glenn Robertson had come to them seperately, through the early morning papers.

Laura had come to the office immediately after Miss Street had checked her boss' schedule, and had declared he had indeed time to see her. As if he would refuse an appointment with Laura Robertson. But he had thought about it, much longer than she would ever want or care to know.

So here she was. Though she knew the building, she had never been in this office before. The blue and grey shades were combined stylishly, the rooms breathed his scent. Ken Malansky, his protege, had opened the door to her and had offered his condolences politely before letting her in. He was funny in a disarming way, so charmingly clumsy she had given him one of her rare genuine smiles. It was said he was promising, clever, fast and smart, picking up the ways and tricks of his boss easily and quickly. He reminded her of Glenn junior.

" I'm so sorry for you, Laura. " The secretary's voice drew her back to reality and the reason why she was here. " Can I get you anything? "

" No, thank you. " She took of her gloves slowly.

" How are you? "

" I don't know really. " It was the truth. She really didn't know. A lot had changed in the last twenty-four hours, and now that she was here, she wasn't even sure if this was the right thing to do. If this was the right place to be. But she needed help, the kind of help only he could provide her with.

" Laura? " Perry Mason's soft and deep voice reached her, and she instantly turned to him. She let out a very long breath while walking towards the door he had opened for her. As in their younger days, the world around her still disappeared when he appeared. Though the inappropriateness of what she felt now was obvious to her, she allowed herself to enjoy the emotion briefly.

He stepped aside to let the graceful widow of Glenn Robertson enter his office. He didn't watch her taking the seat in front of his desk, but sought the eyes of the lady in front of him. His eyes requested her to come into his office too. She shook her head very shortly, and mouthed 'no'. He blinked at her, then a soundless 'I love you' left his lips. Her equally soundless ' I know' was rewarded with a boyish grin, before he closed the door.

He turned and took in the features of the other lady, in his office. She sat there elegantly, her legs crossed, her gaze directed at her lap, at her folded hands. The make up and the heavy perfume were the same as yesterday. He cursed inwardly for recognizing it.

" I'm so very sorry for you, Laura. " He took her hand and pressed a kiss on the small fingers. Though the ring he had once put there had been returned a long time ago, it seemed as if the imprint was still there. Staring at it, he realised it was the imprint of her wedding ring. She had already taken it off.

" Can I get you anything to drink? "

" No thank you. " She was whiping tears from her eyes with the handkerchief he had given her yesterday.

" What happened? "

" He just died yesterday afternoon. " She sobbed. He patiently let her cry without feeling the urge to do something about it. The only tears that moved him nowadays were those of young children and Della Street.

She swallowed several times. " There seems to be a problem, Perry. I know I have no right to do this, but I just don't know who else to turn to. "

He thought about the last time she had said these exact words to him, and what they had brought on. He pushed the thought away. This seemed to be genuine.

" What is the problem ? "

" The doctors treat his death as suspicious … "

He sat back in his chair. " Why? "

" They think someone … helped him. They think he was killed. The police has already started to investigate what happened. "

" I see. " He sighed deeply. " So, how can I help you? "

" Well … " She played with his handkerchief.

" Well? "

" They think either me or Glenn junior killed him … "

In absence of his secretary, he picked up a pen and started to take notes. " Why would you do that? What would be your motive? "

" They reckon I might have done it because he had filed for divorce. "

" Revenge? " He put on his glasses.

" Something like that, yes. "

" And junior? … "

" Most likely the inheritance. But … "

" But ? "

" Glenn was brain dead, Perry. The chances were small he'd ever wake up again, and then again, if he would, no one knew how he would be. He would certainly not be able to walk again or speak again or … "

" What are you implying ? " he interrupted her.

" Maybe junior did it … " she hesitated " … if he did it, out of some kind of … "

" Mercy ? "

" Maybe. " She sniffed.

Perry nodded. " Did he tell you that? Did he tell anyone else ? "

" No. "

" What about opportunity? "

" Well, I don't know about junior, but I was downstairs, talking to you. "

" Have they already established the exact time of death? " He asked matter of factly.

" No. "

" So they can't rule you out yet. " He mumbled.

The disbelief in her voice was evident. " Perry … ? "

" I'm sorry. What did you say ? " Drawn out of constructing this new timeline, he looked up to her from his notes.

" I didn't do it. "

He had heard that before too, and chose to ignore the remark. She sat back and sniffed. " What I came here for, is to ask you to take my defense if I need it. Or junior's, if he needs it. "

" Yours or junior's? "

" Yes, mine or junior's. He might need it. "

" Does he know you're asking me ? "

" No. "

He raised his brows in surprise.

She answered his unasked question. " I'm not the same person you left, Perry. Some things have changed. " Looking down at her hands again, she continued in a soft voice. " Though he might not know, or might not care to know, I do care about him. "

He sat back and watched her for a long time. This could become an interesting case. It would draw attention, it could become a precedent. And if the boy had done it out of some sense of mercy, he would certainly want to help the youngster. But what if she would be charged? Would he want to defend her ? He definetely needed some time to think about that.

"Well, there is no case yet, but I can make some preparations. " He stood up. " Mind you, there might not even be a case. They haven't finished investigating yet. "

" I know. I just needed to be reassured, I guess. " Her big brown eyes suddenly bored into his. He just stared back.

" I'll phone the police to get the post mortem report here as soon as possible, just in case. I'll ask the lieutenant in charge to keep me posted. If either you, or Glenn junior is arrested, you have to contact me right away. I'll make sure you'll have a solid defense. "

" Will you please consider to do it yourself ? " she asked him softly.

" I will. But I can't promise anything. " He put his hand on her shoulder, and squeezed it lightly. " Good luck for now. I'll get back to you. "

" Thank you. " She sniffed again and turned to him, but the embrace she needed so badly and was hoping for wasn't offered. His mind was already processing.

She left his office without saying goodbye, but took the handkerchief with her.

He opened the door between his office and the clean desk of Della Street. They exchanged looks. The beauty of all of her reminded him of last night, of what he had wanted to do, but hadn't done.

" Do you want me ? " she asked him, grasping a notepad and a pen.

He looked away from her to hide a mischievous smile. " Ehm. Yes? "

She rolled her eyes. " No, I mean, do you need me ? "

He tried to stop himself from laughing, but his shoulders were shaking and betrayed him.

She sighed. " Oh, you. I mean, what can I do for you? "

" Well … " he smirked.

She shook her head and laughed. " Perry, for goodness' sake … Do we have a new case here ? "

" We might. "

" So? "

" Please, step into my office, Miss Street. "

As she walked past him into his office, he stopped her gently. His hand stroked her cheek shortly before he brushed his lips to hers. She put her hand on his chest while he did. Though this was just an innocent brush and an innocent touch of her hand, he moaned and kept her from walking through. He looked down into her eyes.

" Perry, what _is_ wrong with you ? "

" Six weeks without you. That's what's wrong with me. " he pouted playfully.

She laughed her throaty chuckle out loud. " U-uh. So, you're … "

" … itchy … " he completed her sentence. She laughed another chuckle.

" U-uh … itchy … Vulnerable was the word I'd use. "

" Six weeks is ridiculous. " He had trouble keeping his hands to himself.

The utter amusement was evident in her voice. " Shall we go back to work now? "

" Now ? "

" Oh, grow up, Perry Mason. "

" That is exactly the problem. I did. "

She decided to say the two words she thought he needed to be able to behave. " Laura Robertson. " It worked. The name brought him back to his job immediately.

He sighed deeply. " Thank you. That helped. "

It took them the rest of the afternoon to make lists of possible needed information, witnesses and expert witnesses, and a list of questions for both possible clients. They were interrupted by phonecalls from journalists who somehow had already found out about their new clients. And there had been one phonecall from the doctor. She had taken that one at her own desk.

Ken had picked up the post mortem report at the police station, and lay it down on her desk, a little too hard. His agitation about this possible new case had obviousy build up. He was about to explode, and he looked at her frantically, pacing back and forth in front of her desk. " It's in the newspapers already. I still can't believe he's doing this. You can't really feel okay about this. "

" About what, Ken? "

" Do you approve of this? Do you approve of him taking this on? "

" It's not up to me to decide what cases he takes. And this might not even be a case. " She tried to state it matter of factly, but obviously not very convincing. Ken made a dismissive gesture, and started pacing again.

" You know, Ken .. " He turned to her, her voice held an edge of emotion he wasn't familiair with. She stood next to her desk, tapping at it with her index finger, then drawing circles on it. " … he leads, I follow. It's what I do. "

" Ah, yeah. Steadfast and loyal, right ? " He remembered the quote from earlier conversations about the Robertson case. His comment came out more icy than he had intended, and he tried a boyish smile.

She rolled her eyes at him and shrugged. " I work for him and with him, Ken, and I love him. And this shouldn't be happening to her. Nobody deserves to be treated that way. It's tragical. "

" Yeah, well, if you love him so much, Della, you better tell him to watch his back. I wouldn't trust her for a milion bucks. "

" He doesn't trust her, Ken. Have you seen the list of questions we've made for her? "

" No. "

" Over there. " She pointed with her chin at the papers that were next to him on the table.

He picked up the neatly typed list of questions, and whistled. Five pages, a hundred and fifty questions. " _'When did you take off your wedding ring?'_ " He queried Della Street's face for clues. " How is that of use for the case? Or, is it just something he wants to know for himself ? "

" Every detail can be important for the case. But, yes, maybe he wants to know about it himself. You know about her, and their uhm… history. " She smiled at the young man's cleverness, and patted his shoulder. " It's good to know you're picking up his ways so quickly. "

" Yeah, but … "

" Ask him, if you really want to know. " But she knew he wouldn't.

She left Ken Malansky reading through the list of questions, to enter Perry's office. He stood at his desk, and looked up when she came in.

" Here is the post mortem report on Glenn Robertson. "

" Thank you. " He grabbed the hand that had handed him the report and pulled her to him. The phone rang at the exact moment he was planting a light kiss on her temple.

He worked his arm across her back, his hand faster than hers to pick up the phone. She watched him with her arms crossed in front of her.

" Mason. " He stroked her upper arm, while returning her stare.

" Picking up the phone yourself, Mr. Mason? What happened to your secretary ? Has she already been replaced by the late Mr. Robertson's wife? "

His jaws tightened. " Who is this? "

The name of the journalist made him slam the receiver back in its cradle.

" What was that all about? "

" Nothing important. " He continued to stroke her arm. " Are you coming home with me ? "

" No. You have a very nice dinner appointment, remember? "

He smiled. " Ah yes. The City Hall's Charity Ball. It's been what, twenty years since we last attended that one ? "

" No, the charity ball is in two days. This is an evening you have been looking forward to ever since you opened the initial invitation, remember, the Associates Annual Dinner, you know, dinner with the Governor of Colorado? "

" Oh no … " he rubbed his face and growled, " … is that tonight? "

" A-ha. Yes. Let me quote to you why you really want to go there tonight. ' The Association values the contribution of your office to the high standards of law practises in the state of Colorado, and highly appreciates your opinion as an influencing lawyer. It is therefore that you're invited to share your experience and business sense with the Governor at the Annual Dinner.' "

" So, that is what I gained from life. The governor wants to talk to me. " He groaned. " Are you coming with me ? " Her company would surely help him to get through the drag of the evening.

" No. I wasn't invited. "

He groaned again.

" You are going to talk politics, dear. And I'm not. "

" Where are you going? "

" Wellll … "

" Well? "

" Swimming. With Janet. I have to stay in shape. "

" Do you? " His hands sought the smooth curves of her waist.

She leaned towards him. " Yes, I do. " The opening of the door to his office interrupted something that was about to turn into a promising lingering kiss.

Though Ken knew he had disturbed them in a private moment, he found the haughty snort of his boss way too effusive. " Something wrong? "

She shook her head, and pursed her lips. " No. Perry just remembered he has a very nice dinner appointment tonight, and he doesn't really feel like it … "

" That is quite an understatement, Miss. " Perry was really annoyed.

" You're not having dinner with uhm … her, right? "

" Her, Ken ? "

" Yeah. Mrs. Robertson. "

Della chuckled. " No, he was invited to the annual banquet with the governor, so he'll be talking politics all night. Such a splendid way to spend an evening. "

" Well, there is something else than politics you can talk about tonight, Perry. I'm sure a lot of the guests and maybe even the governor will find this very interesting. "

" What's that? " Perry grunted. Ken handed a folded news paper to the open hand of his boss and pointed at an article, with a big picture printed next to it.

Perry snorted again and frowned his brows. " Rats … " The picture on the frontpage showed Perry Mason's back, and the big drowsy eyes of Laura Robertson while she showed him a handkerchief, with one hand on his chest. Even in black and white it was a sour sight to look at.

Della glanced at the picture, and tilted her head. It humoured her obviously. " Well, this looks good. It certainly will give them something to talk about. Better than politics anyway. "

" If anyone asks tonight, I'll sue him. Or her. "

His remark caused her surprise. " You were never bothered by suggestion. "

" Well, I am now. Aren't you? " he turned to face her. The look in his eyes was cold.

" No. " she said truthfully.

" It's nothing, Della. You were there. You saw it. It was nothing. " The tone of his voice was close to accusing. Ken Malansky turned, and left the room silently.

" Don't take this out on me, Perry. " Her voice was solid. Her earlier softness and amusement had gone completely. " The picture doesn't lie. The text they printed underneath does maybe, but the picture very clearly shows."

" Shows what? "

" Oh, stop it, Perry. Please, let's not go there again. "

" I can't believe it's happening again. " he whispered.

" Excuse me ? "

" Nothing. It's not important. " He grunted.

The firm set of his jaws irritated her. " It's just how it works. You know how it works. People look for sensation, and interpret things in the way they want to see it. It's just gossip. And it is not the first time this is happening, Perry. What's bothering you ? " His silence irritated her even more. " Talk to me. "

" Hell if I know … " He threw the paper at the couch he was about to set himself onto. " It just annoys me. "

" I polished your shoes for tonight, and your tux is in the closet here. I picked it up from the drycleaners' this morning. " She had changed her tone of voice into business like.

" What ? " He snapped.

He sighed.

He'd snapped.

At Della.

He shook his head and closed his eyes, turned towards her, but she couldn't see it. Or ignored it. Firmly.

She repeated her earlier words, without facing him. " Your tux is here, and your shoes are polished. You have to be there at seven thirty tonight. "

" Lord … " He sighed with his head in his hands. " I hate this job sometimes. "

" Well, you have all the time in the world to think about it tonight. Maybe you can ask some other guests how they've managed this far. Maybe they were more succesful ignoring usual gossip. Maybe they can tell you how to do it, without blaming others. " Her words sunk in slowly. He registered them, but didn't take in the full notion, let alone the connotation of her words.

He'd had absolutely no right to snap at her, not for something as small as just this picture that meant nothing, in a newspaper that meant nothing at all. He stared at it. The dramatic and helpless look on the beautiful face of the beautiful Laura Robertson suggested so much that wasn't there. And, of course, his own face wasn't visible to kill the suggestion. It was presented as if the picture was taken after Glenn's tragical and sudden death. But it had been taken before. He knew that. She knew that. The whole world should know that.

Doubt and hesitation filled his mind again. The post mortem report stated that Glenn had died between 12:30 and 13.30 p.m. He had left the hospital at 13.00 p.m. with Ken and Della, he remembered that clearly, because he had checked his watch at the moment she had put her hand in the crook of his arm. So as much as Laura stated that she had been with him in the hospital hall at the time of death, that was not entirely true. Technically, her alibi wasn't airtight, so she could have killed him. He glanced at the picture of them on the frontpage again. Was she wearing her wedding ring ? He narrowed his eyes to have a better look. It appeared that she wasn't wearing it, so she must have taken it off before. Now, what did that mean? And why was that so damn important?

He threw the paper through the office, and sat back.

What was it? Why was he so cautious, so careful, so suspicious about anything involving Laura? Why was it that the atmosphere in the office had changed? Ken Malansky was against them handling this case, which usually didn't cloud his own opinion, but irritated him now to an unknown extend. And just now, a picture in the newspaper had made him explode with frustration. Even if she hadn't done it, even if she was perfectly innocent this time, her presence was interfering on all kinds of levels in his life on which he didn't accept interference.

And he'd snapped at Della.

At Della. While every fibre of him ached for her.

" Bloody fool. " Sighing again he comtemplated how being around Laura Robertson always made things more complicated on a very uncontrollable basis. It was as if his own reality slipped through his fingers like dry sand, and was replaced by one of her castles in the air.

He would cancel the banquet with the governor and tell Della to cancel her plans for tonight. Her shape was perfect as it was, as was the rest of her, and he was going to tell her that right now. And spend the entire night investigating the issue of her being in shape thoroughly.

" Della ? " His loud voice rumbled through the office. But there was no answer, she had already left. Even Ken Malansky had left without saying a word. Or without him noticing it.

" Damn it! "

He would attend the dinner, and leave as early as could be explained. Which would be very early.

And so, he indeed came home just before eleven. Getting dressed into a tuxedo was as nerve-racking as taking the damn thing off. He decided that again while swearing extensively at his inability to take the bow tie off. Utterly annoyed by the unsuccesful fumbling of his thick fingers, he took a pair of scissors and cut the damn thing off his neck.

He sat down next to the phone, and told himself to wait for fifteen minutes. If she didn't phone within the next fifteen minutes, he'd take a taxi to her house. He needed to see her. Because they had parted angry and without saying goodbye today. And they both knew they would both not be sleeping until they'd talked about it.

He picked up the phone after the first ring.

" Della. "

" I want to see you. "

" C'me here. Use your own key to get in. "

" I'm on my way now. "

" Just get here. " He said it to the busy tone.

She found him at his couch, a bottle of whiskey and a tumbler accompanying him. The scissors next to the bow tie on his coffee table made her chuckle. If he'd just waited, she could have helped him with it. That was what she was here for anyway, wasn't it? To talk, to get him out of the tuxedo, and whatever more would be appropriate.

" Hi. " His voice was low.

" Hi. " She lay her bag and purse on one of his chairs. " No intruders ? Ken? Journalists? "

" No. Not even doctors or photographers … or governors. "

She laughed at him.

The next silence was very comfortable, balancing their hectic day and evening peacefully. They just stared at eachother. He focussed on the twinkle in her eyes, breathing in her expression and her soothing features. Her lashes fluttered, her almond shaped brown eyes were glittering in the dim light. Small earclips. A hint of make up. Her full lips painted a soft shade of pinkish, an inviting smile on them. The curls a bit unruly, still a little wet from swimming. They'd feel soft and damp to his skin, he anticipated.

He was litterally drawn to her by the strength of the attraction. He could watch her for days. Fascinated by her, not just at special occassions when she was extravagantly dressed, emphasizing all the right curves in all the right ways, but right at the chores of daily life. Her humour and stamina were never matched by anyone elses, except maybe his. But sometimes.

" I'm sorry. "

" Me too. "

He stood up and held out his left hand. His ring clung to hers softly when she took his fingers in her own. Very slowly decreasing the distance between them, she tilted her head. She caught his other hand and brought both her hands to her waist, allowing his hands to rest there, bringing her own up along his ams, over his shoulders to let them stop to play with his collar. He watched her with squinted eyes, stroked her waist, then used his fingers on the small of her back to bring her to him. They both closed their eyes as she brushed her forehead back and forth to his beard for lingering moments, before his lips planted a careful kiss.

Two of her slender fingers slipped in between two buttons of his shirt, the others rest on his chest. She inhaled, then whispered. " I miss you so much, Perry. "

" I'm right here, baby. "

" You know what I mean. I miss you. I'd never thought it would be this bad. " She shook her head against his chest, her soft chuckle muffled in the fabric of his shirt.

" Believe me. I know. " He kissed her hair. Soft and damp indeed.

" I'd never thought I could still want you so bad. " She pulled back to look into his eyes. Hers held this lustful promise, that made his voice impossibly low.

" I know. "

He inhaled deeply, bringing his hands from her waist up over her blouse, to just below the curves of her breasts. She closed her eyes and parted her lips. Her soft sighing moan steered his fingers as he provokingly slowly worked them upwards over her breasts to her shoulders, the result of this touch immediately visible to his hungry eyes.

The way she turned her face to the side, gave him an answer he was not waiting for.

" How long ? " His fingers lightly touched her cheek. His eyes were drawn to her full lips.

" Another couple of days. To be safe. But the testresults might be there tomorrow. " She sighed, using her index finger to draw circles on his chest. Even through the fabric of his shirt, she felt the tremor it caused. His breathing heavied.

" Another couple of days … " A smile played across his pursed lips. " What if we go against doctor's orders? "

" I don't know. " Her low voice was as soft as the skin he was about to caress.

He took off one of her earclips, slid it into his pocket, then brought his lips to just behind her ear at the line where her curls took over the creamy sweet smelling skin. He was taking his time. No need to hurry. What if he would do just this for the next couple of days?

" Perry … " she moaned, pulled back, yet not enough.

The kiss that followed was inevitable. Caused by the thoughts of her in his arms, and what could be instigated, now and here. While they shouldn't. But she was here. Both his hands moved on her back in seizing but slow grasps. Her hands crawled around his neck and pulled him to her. He obeyed the urge to tease her lips apart with his tongue, sucking hers into his mouth gently, sultry. It made her as much as fall against him, while being caught by strong, capturing arms. Lingering moments passed before sense tried to take over again, and she spoke the words that were deliriously and confusingly contrasting with the movements of her body against his.

" … we can't… we shouldn't … "

He grinned against her cheek. " Ah. _we can't we shouldn't_ … That's a long time ago … "

" I should go home. " That was a familiair whisper.

" Stay. " More familiairity.

Now she grinned. " I really should go. "

" Please stay. " He stroked her cheek. She melted.

" Perry ... " So very close to surrendering.

" Please. "


	3. Chapter 3

**Meeting again, 3**

Octobre 12th, 1990

And so, as it turned out, there were other ways indeed. The grin had trouble leaving his face this morning.

She had left his warm and tight embrace at daybreak, to go home and dress into other clothes. She had told him she had an early appointment at her hairdresser, and she would be at the office afterwards, at nine. Just before leaving, she had slipped back in between his sheets to kiss him sweetly, and to warm her cold hands shortly where she had done that the night before too. Her actions had left him speechless, and more.

The big man in the mirror had smirked at him, before he started to shave very carefully. Laughing about her eternally repeated order to never, ever shave off the beard. Ever. Laughing at her, but merely at his own very fierce inability to keep in check the night before.

His composure had been smashed to pieces, the moment he had become aware of the garters. Of course he hadn't been supposed to see them, and she had hid them carefully. While she was brushing her teeth and changing into his shirt for the night, his bathroomdoor had been ajar just enough for prying eyes, but he had behaved. He hadn't even glanced.

His determination to ignore the close to uncontrollable stirring that drove his behaviour, was completely eradicated by just the little imprint of garters, barely visible, but indeed visible on both her long legs, leaving everything else to his vivid and utterly tested imagination.

But then again, as he admitted now, even if she had been wearing a gunny bag, it would have torn him apart.

She had noticed the devious stare in his eyes, had crawled onto the bed towards him, and had kissed him lightly with a sly smile. Pushing her forehead to his, she had whispered 'goodnight, Perry', as one of his hands purely accidentally and of course by its own record pulled up his own shirt from her back. Her temperature there, the sweet smell of all of her and the promise in her lustful eyes had formed the final trigger.

In one swift movement he had pulled her alongside him. She had smiled wickedly, reminding him of the doctor's orders. He had respected them, but had thoroughly explored their boundaries, had allowed his own hands and mouth and hers to uncontrollably linger and touch everywhere within the limits that were set, had panting sighs envelop them both until … until what?

_'Earth-shattering_' was probably the right word to describe what had happened. The reminders were still clear and evident on his upperarms and shoulders.

Postponed need. Time could be a friend if approached properly.

Now, in the back of his mind, there was a vague memory of a phone that had kept ringing, his swearing when he yanked the connecting plug out of the wall, and their uncontrollable laughter when it turned out he had yanked the wrong plug out of the wall. Another memory of her sultry chuckle afterwards. Another one of her vulnerability when he touched her again. Another one of her heated skin. Another one of her ecstasy. Another one of his own.

He inhaled deeply.

The reason his phone hadn't stopped ringing until he had put an end to it was all over the newspapers.

Glenn junior had confessed he killed his father. The person that had kept calling to him, must have been his stepmother.

His name was again on the frontpage today, written next to Laura's. He was 'the famous lawyer' and was said to have taken the defense of the late Mr. Robertson's son. Printed next to the article, there was a small picture of them together. 'Them', as in 'Laura Martin and Perry Mason', young an invincible once as a promising couple, both criminal defense lawyers, both smart. Both handsome. Engaged…

The famous lawyer himself now snorted annoyed at the suggestive tones and false, far too easy conclusions in the article. This wasn't just background information. Old stories were just dug up to fill these pages. His relationship with Della Street was mentioned as an 'open secret', but there was nothing secret about it, and nothing open. He took a sip of his cold coffee. The disgusted grimace this caused on his face was seen and humoured by Della Street who had apparently been watching him.

" Goodmorning again. " Her soft voice reached him. His gaze softened immediately.

" Goodmorning, Miss. "

" Coffee? "

" Yours, please. Warm. Yes. " Her coffee was so much better than his own.

They worked through the schedule of the next two weeks, preparing depositions, and of course the preliminary hearing of Glenn junior next week. This happened automatically, the fact that he was taking junior's defense just went without saying. But he was still having second thoughts about this. It kept nagging that he shouldn't. It was as if he had Ken Malansky yelling at him in the back of his mind.

A pensive smile tugged at his lips. There were other ways in this respect too. As his decision started to form into a solution that would work out to be better for all of them, he watched Della from aside. Her mind obviously working on the schedule and her tasks, she was writing a list of things to do.

" Will that be all? " she queried.

" Uhm. Yes. For now. " The next file she had prepared was about the Robertson's Law Firm. He pretended to start reading it. She stood up.

" Oh, and Della … "

" Yes. " She turned and leaned onto his desk again, writing down another task. A typical hairdressers scent waved to him, combined with a hint of her perfume.

" I forgot to mention something important. "

" Yes ? "

He cleared his throat to pause and to give his voice the suitable tone and softness for the words he was about to speak. " I love you. " Despite his efforts to sound solid, it had become a whisper. Feeling a weight being lifted from his shoulders and the tension in his jaws subside, he moved his hand over the desk to touch hers.

The matter of factness in her eyes left and was immediately replaced by a look that matched how he felt exactly. She stroked his hand. The answer to his gentle smile was a swooning gaze.

" Perry Mason, I'm so in love with you, it's unhealthy sometimes. " It was a whisper too.

She shook her head and sighed deeply. Then she added playfully " And I can still feel you everywhere. "

A boyish grin reached his eyes. " I'm sorry. "

" For what? " She glanced at him.

He just watched her from aside. She stroked his cheek with the back of her hand as an answer to his stare.

The slamming of the outer door of the office pulled them out of their reverie. Ken yelled at them. " Junior confessed. " He ran into the office, his face excited in a strange way. " He confessed. Turn on the television. "

They watched the news together. He touched the small of her back, and she looked up to him with questioning eyes.

" Could you phone Laura and ask her to come over here? "

" Sure. "

When she came back to watch the news with them again, she leaned against his arm. He watched her again and took in the scent that was Della Street. He was convinced he had made the right decision.

After Ken's excitement subsided, she left him with Perry to discuss what could happen now, and to set the strategy for the preliminary. Though Glenn junior had confessed, he needed to be protected and defended against the D.A.'s strong charges. Perry ordered Ken to phone the D.A.'s office and to make arrangements to meet the youngster.

The late Mr. Robertson's wife arrived at the office at noon. But he hadn't noticed. As he hadn't noticed Miss Street wasn't at her desk when he opened the door between his office and her desk.

" Della ? " She wasn't there. " Baby ? " He looked around.

The woman that was seated on the other side of the room closed her eyes for a moment. How she loved the sound of this word pronounced by him in his deep voice, although it wasn't meant for her.

" She is not here, Perry. "

" Oh. " He was taken aback. Still, wanting and expecting to see Della Street, and seeing Laura Robertson-Martin instead, caused a short-circuiting sensation.

" Can we have lunch together somewhere? I'm starving, and I don't think I will have enough time to eat this afternoon, preparing Glenn's funeral. And I want to go and see junior. I have a lot of paperwork to do. " She sighed. " It's a drag, Perry. " The worn out look on her face underlined her words.

He hesitated and gave her proposal some thought. This office was probably not the right place to tell her what he was going to tell her. He didn't know what his message would bring on, and how she would react on it.

" I have to make two more phonecalls, and I'll come with you. "

She smiled at him. " I'll wait. "

It was almost one and a half hour later, when Della found his scribble at her desk.

_HD_

_At "C" . Ask KM pick me up 1.30 T_

_DM P_

Sometimes he used 'L' voor 'lovely', or 'D' for 'dear', or 'B' for 'baby' or 'beautiful'. Today he had chosen 'H', which usually meant 'honey'. 'T' was 'thank you'. The "C" made her laugh. "C" referred to their old times in Los Angeles, it was an abbreviation for real insiders. It meant _'I'm having lunch'_ , 'C' was short for _Clay's_. And in scribbles like this, it meant 'lunch in a particular restaurant'. She knew which one.

But the 'DM' before 'P' was new. She frowned in thought, musing about the possible meaning of it, while she walked to Ken's office and tell him to leave to pick up his boss. It was 1.20 already.

At ten minutes distance from her and his office, Perry Mason stared out of the window, his fingers fumbling with his napkin ring. Laura had excused herself earlier. He had made her cry. He knew that she was going to before he had said what he had to say. It had not been difficult at all to say it. It was difficult to acknowledge now that the tears he had caused had moved him this time. Her vulnerability had made him remember why he had loved her once. Their conversation during lunch had made him remember why he had stopped it once.

Her voice startled him. " I guess I have to go back now. I have some more paperwork to do. Now that you … " she sniffed.

He watched her thoughtfully. There was one more question. " Did you know he did it before you came to see me? "

She shook her head quickly, sitting down again at the direct bluntness of his question.

" My God, Perry. " She rolled her eyes. " No. I … "

" No ? "

" I didn't know. I really didn't. " He couldn't tell if she was lying. But there had been a schedule, of who was to visit the unfortunate Glenn sr. at what time. There were camera's in the hospital. He could investigate if she was lying to him. She could have not known junior did it, when she came into his office the first time, but the chances were she had known all along. So, she was innocent of the crime this time, but had she lied to him again ? And if she had, why ? His suspicion and confusion was driving him mad. He had definetely made the right decision.

He took his cane and top coat. Outside the restaurant, Ken Malansky's car pulled up the parking lot at exact 1.30. He leaned both his hands on his cane.

" Think about it. " He pursed his lips. " And do something about it. " He left without saying goodbye.

"_ Think about it. Do something about it. _" The words echoed through her tired, confused mind. The carefully build composure threatened to burst. Why was he so damn real, honest, pure ? What was the right word?

Genuine. That was the word she was looking for. Genuine. As genuine as his Miss Street.

" My help is always available. " Instead of giving her reassurance, these words had hit her, one by one and very hard. The best way to deal with this, was to go away, to just ignore again. But he had just told her to stay, hadn't he? To clean up her own mess this time.

" How was it ? Did she confess she did it and set junior up ? " Ken tried to joke to break the silent mood. Although he thought it was a nice pun, Perry just snorted at him.

" Did you let her in to the office, Ken ? "

" You mean this morning? "

" Yes. "

" No. I was on the phone with the D.A.'s office until way after twelve. It must have been Della who let her in. Why do you ask? "

" Never mind. "

" Sure, Perry. "

" What, Ken? "

" I mean, I don't know anything, but I heard the stories. "

" That's what they are. Stories. " The glance sidewards irritated him. " What, Ken? "

" I still think you shouldn't do it. You're too personally involved. Both of you."

He wasn't going to tell Ken yet. Not yet. " I'm not. I've made myself very clear to her. "

" Yeah, but Perry … " The typical insecure worry crossed Ken's face.

" What are you saying, Ken? " The annoyance was clearly audible.

" Well, Perry, she phoned from our office to the restaurant where you just had lunch with her. "

" So? " he grunted.

" I heard her make the reservation. She used her maidenname. " Ken glanced sidewards to his boss.

" What? " The utter disbelief surprised Malansky.

" Yes. She said 'Miss Martin'. I mean, of course that's who she is right now, but Mr. Robertson is not even burried yet. The funeral is the day after tomorrow. "

Perry Mason stared out of the window, while touching the handkerchief that was with him in the insidepocket of his suitjacket. It was still there. He took it out automatically, watched it, brought it to his face and put it back to hide it again.

The clouds of confusion were disappearing. He had definetely made the right decision. He only wondered when the phonecall would come.

It came three hours later.

" Della, I … "

" Yes? "

" I … Can I speak to Perry please? " Her voice was about to break.

" Sure, Laura. "

" Yes. " He had been gruff since he came back from lunch.

" Laura for you … "

He didn't answer. This silence was awkward.

" Perry? "

" I'm here. "

" Laura for you. She doesn't sound right. " There was a silence again. " She's not okay, Perry. " Della added.

_I know. _

" Thank you. Put her through, please. "

An hour later, the line stopped being busy. Della waited fifteen minutes before stepping into his office. He was on his couch with his eyes closed, his fingers laced behind his head.

" Perry? " She whispered.

" Come in, baby. " This sounded better. He was more relaxed now. She still wondered what had happened, but decided not to ask him.

" What does 'DM' mean? "

" 'DM' ? "

" Yes. It was on the note you left me this afternoon. "

" Ah, yes. It has something to do with us having dinner tonight. "

" Oh. At your place? "

" Yes. Dinner at my place. 'DMP' "

" Ah. I'll remember that for next time. "

" I have to do some groceries first, or I might eat you again. "

He stood up, and walked around her to his desk to pick up a pile of files. It were the files she had been working on yesterday and today.

" Send these to Laura, please, will you? "

" But … you haven't even read them. And I haven't made copies yet. "

" You don't have to. "

" But, Perry … "

" I'm not doing it, Della. "

She was silent for a brief minute.

" But … "

" No. I withdrew this afternoon. I'm not taking it. Will you please send them back? "

" But, Perry? Why ? "

" Because she is going to do it herself. "

She just stared at him, repeating his words in her mind, becoming aware of the meaning of them slowly. She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off.

" Do you trust me? " His low voice asked her.

" I do. You know I do. "

" Then don't ask. " But a range of questions was listed in her eyes. His stare answered all of them in the right order quickly, and apparently, to her complete satisfaction.

She pressed one delicate hand to her chest. " Okay. "

As she was taking the files from him, he watched her seriously. As he had expected, a very heavy weight seemed to be lifted from her shoulders now as well. He sank down on the couch again.

She decided to make copies of the files anyway, just in case. By the perfect order in which they still were, she could tell he had indeed not read them at all, which kind of relaxed her in a strange way.

Now, one of the files was different, and had a different colour. She hadn't made this one herself, it was probably Ken Malansky's. Taking it out of the pile, she watched it curiously and started to read the information inside. As she parted her lips in utter surprise, her eyes widened. She laughed without making noise, trying to stop her shoulders from shaking.

Steadying her composure, she walked into the office, and tried a steady voice. " You know Perry … "

" What? " he murmured, his eyes still closed.

" … I was thinking, now that you have some time left, you might want to find out about my doctor. He might be related, you know. Doctor Bart Robertson. "

" No, he is not related. It's double 'b'. Robbertson. " It had just come out of his mouth without thought. He glanced at her, hiding his annoyance that he was found out by her this way.

" Oh, so you really checked him out … " She bit her lowerlip to stop herself from laughing, but she couldn't, and burst out into laughter anyway. " Why? "

" Well, I ran some checks on him. "

" No, you didn't. Perry, please. He is a doctor for goodness' sake." The disbelief shattered from her eyes.

" He is your gynaecologist, Della. He sees parts of you that … " Looking away from her, he inhaled deeply. How he hated to get caught like this. It had been a ridiculous action to investigate the background of a doctor, but he had felt the urge to do it too strongly to refrain from it.

" … finish your sentence, please, Mr. Mason … "

" No. " he stated. " You know what I mean. "

" Since when do you not trust doctors? As if you are the one to decide who sees … parts of me. "

" Well, call me oldfashioned, but yes, you're mine and … well … you're mine. " His pout made her laugh. " I just don't want you to be touched by someone with indecent intentions. "

" He is a doctor ... "

He shrugged.

" Perry, the only man touching me with devious intentions, is you … "

" Hey, I didn't say 'devious'. I said 'indecent'. " His amusement was evident. She laughed at him.

" U-uh. Well, I did say 'devious'. Your intentions aren't just indecent, Perry Mason, sometimes they are downright wicked. I often wonder how you can be so eminent and so very devious at the same time. "

" So eminent? "

" Yes. An eminent and decent laywer, old, grey, very well educated, three piece suits, neat ties. "

He nodded. " Mmm-mmm. You see. That's exactly what I mean. That's what they also say about doctors, don't they, very well educated, eminent, decent. "

" Oh, you. Mister Attorney. Using my own words against me. " She pointed her pencil at him, before standing up. " But uhm … I guess you're right. " She straightened her skirt and pursed her lips.

" What? "

" It takes one to know one … " She narrowed her eyes at him, giving him the look she knew made him very vulnerable, eminent or not. He inhaled audibly.

" Have you spoken to him? " He asked her.

" Yes. "

" So, what did he say ? "

" The doctor ? "

" Yes, your dr. Robbertson. "

" He wanted to know when he can have dinner with me. "

He playfully brought his hands up. " Woman … " Yet he noticed she avoided the subject. Yesterday's phonecall from the doctor had obviously not brought the news she was waiting for. He would wait with her. No need to hurry.

She changed the subject. " Where is Ken by the way? "

" I have sent him away for some errands, to help Laura. "

" I think that's the right thing to do. She does need help, Perry. She sounded so lost on the phone."

" I told her our help is available. But we won't take the defense. She can do that herself, she still has her license. The only moment I'll have to be there is at junior's deposition tomorrow night. I have promised I would sit in. "

" So, I'll be on my own at the Charity Ball tomorrow night ? "

" Yes, I'm sorry. I feel obliged to junior. " He titled his head to her. " Walter will be attending the Ball, and Vi will. Judge Haroldson will be there. You'll have a great time. "

" I guess I will. "

He stood up from the couch, and stretched his back and arms. " Do we call it a day, Miss ? "

" I have to finish a brief for next week, so I might need another hour. Can you stay until I'm finished? "

" No, I have to do some groceries. I'm having someone for dinner tonight, you know. " The double meaning of what he had just said, made them both smile.

" Oh, could you pick up my dress for tomorrow night from the drycleaner? " She dug a small piece of paper out of her purse. " This is the receipt. "

" Sure. Do I want to know which dress it is, since I won't be seeing it on you? "

" The red one. "

" The red number? You're wearing the red dress tomorrow night, while I'm not there? "

She kissed him lightly. " I'll make you a promise. "

" Please do. "

" I won't wear garters tomorrow night. "

He watched her with squinted eyes. " Are you … ? "

" Don't worry. I'm also not wearing them now … "

He moaned anyway.

" I have my driver pick you up here in an hour. "

In the silence he left behind she chose to make the phonecall. Listening to the whining tone while she was put through to the doctor, she urged herself to calm down. The testresults just hadn't been in yet yesterday, that didn't mean something was wrong. They were just late.

" Miss Street?

" Yes? "

" It's all right, Miss Street. We found no malignant cells. However, I do want to see you for check-ups every two months. "

The weight of six weeks was completely lifted from her shoulders now.

She made herself comfortable after dinner, and listened to him clearing their dishes. The big couch with the soft cushions embraced her like the owner would do that in just a few minutes. She dwelled in the pillows in anticipation, and moved to the side for him to settle himself comfortable with her in his arms later.

She moaned softly. " I love this … "

" Me too … And I love you. "

She propped herself up against the backrest to look at him.

" I do. " He affirmed.

" What did you say to her? " It seemed appropriate to whisper this question.

He played with her hand. " Well, basically, what I said was that it might be wise for her to clean up after herself this time. It will be difficult, but it is the least she can do, for both senior and junior. And for herself. To take responsibility. "

" But, you could have done it, Perry. As a friend. You told me she offered you friendship. "

" She did. "

" So why didn't you take her offer? "

" It wasn't friendship. "

There were no words needed for a while, and so they were both silent, listening to the sounds of the city outside and taking it in. Resting was such an underestimated notion. He would never underestimate the joy and soothing, maybe even healing effects of holding her close to him.

She adjusted her slender frame to his broad body again, as he laced her fingers with his. Had she … ?

" Della … ? "

" What is it? "

" Did you make the phonecall? "

" Yes … "

" And … "

" It's all right. "

" All right? "

" Fine, just fine … "

He sighed deeply. _'Fine, just fine.' _

" Della? "

" What is it? "

" Can we ... ? " He paused there. The memories of last night's boundaries were still there. What if the boundaries were gone? And, what if the boundaries weren't gone? Their entangled fingers were a welcome distraction for his eyes now, giving him something to concentrate on.

He felt the soft skin on his cheek before he realised she had moved on top of him. The hand he hadn't watched, had travelled downwards and now rested on a bulge that had developed in the blink of an eye. Of her eye.

" Oh, yes, Perry … " the moan that accompanied the whispering sigh tingled through bodyparts he didn't even know existed " … we can ... "

'Meeting again' now gained another connotation.


	4. Chapter 4

_Since I won't be able to post tomorrow, I'm posting the last part, the epilogue, today too. Thank you very much for reading and reviewing. You are the best!_

**Meeting again**

**Epilogue**

Octobre 13th, 1990

It took her some time to acknowledge that she was actually having a good time. Good conversations, good food, nice champaign and music indeed combined into the pleasant evening she had been predicted to have. The press, the annoying paperazzi were safely kept outside the hall, so there would be no intrusion in here. The arrival of her friend Vi, actually on the arm of Walter Ireland this time, had given her something to talk about. Walter had quickly learned he was the subject of their wit before mumbling something about 'women talk', and had gone to find some victims for what he called a 'male conversation'.

" So, where is Perry ? " Vi asked her now.

" He's with a client. "

" On a Fridaynight ? That must be some client. Just a client ? "

" A client. " She really didn't feel like going into details about this. Though she understood very well why Perry thought he had to be present at junior's deposition, she didn't like it that she was here without him.

" A client all right. Wouldn't that be the stepson of the famous Mrs. Robertson ? "

There was no answer, just a demure look.

" Oh, please, give me a break here, Della. It's been all over the news and in the papers. Today there was even a whole page about their past relationship. With photo's. "

She knew, she had seen it. Had read it. Had taken in the better half of the black and white pictures, his handsome face, his attitude. His glittering eyes, his fanatism shattering of the freeze-frame images. She had loved this man, and still loved him for very good reasons. " Well, as you say, Vi, it's in the past. "

" Aren't you bothered by it? "

She shook her head. " No, not really. "

" Why not? "

She shrugged. Why would she be bothered by something that was just a suggestion now? That was even a suggestion while it was going on actually. She had seen it back then. It was a charade. What really bothered her now, was that he wasn't here with her. The atmosphere was right. The dancefloor was rightly illuminated by the right soft lights. The music was soft and had the right tone, the right rythm. The people were the right company. They would have a great time together. He'd love it here.

Della Street watched her friend from aside, biting her lower lip. She had told Vi before how she had fallen in love with Perry Mason a long time ago and that she had loved him very deeply ever since. Vi knew that these feelings were mutually intense and intensely mutual. She knew about the struggles they had survived together, about their everlasting bond, about how well they knew eachother. About the way she could finish his sentences without thought and vice versa. About his brilliance, and the way she facilitated him to fully utilize it. And about their perfect matching sense of humour, because she had been present more than once at their fits of laughter.

But there was no way of course that she would ever tell Vi about the heated love she'd shown and shared with him, or about the lewdness of their last two nights. About the way his voice and attitude altered by the touch of her hands and lips. About their everlasting need to touch, to be close, to be physical. About his unexpected, at times very welcome, very inciting and exciting lithesomeness. She would never tell anyone about that. Some things were better left unsaid. Some things were better when just experienced, enjoyed very thoroughly and kept private.

Her wistful stare made Vi chuckle softly. " My, Della, if I had known, I wouldn't have asked. If he feels half the same as you do, there is definetely nothing to worry about. "

Smiling softly at her friend, Della stood up to fetch a drink. Water probably. The red dress she was wearing still fit, but had become more tight at her waist. Being spoiled by Perry Mason brought things like this on. No more champaign for her tonight. Or, well, maybe one. Or two. She wasn't driving home herself anyway. The car that was going to take her home wouldn't arrive until she'd phone for it. This time she would ask the driver to come in and escort her through the press outside. On her way in, she had been ambushed by journalists that all had opinions and had yelled questions at her about Perry, Glenn junior, and of course, the widow of Mr. Robertson.

One of them had taken it too far. " You must know, that he was seen in a taxi with Mrs. Robertson tonight, Miss Street. Do you have any comment on that? " She had just stopped and stared at him coldly. He had left silently and quickly, but she had felt uncomfortable afterwards anyway. This was what annoyed her most about these cases. It was not that she was confronted with ghosts from the past, or that his sense of justice moved close, or sometimes over her boundaries of what she considered necessary for their clients. It was the fact that they had no privacy concerning these matters and themselves. The spotlight was always on them.

Finishing her champaign, she smiled at the thought of him tonight, when she came out of his bedroom, dressed in her current attire. He had been overwhelmed, and had pouted that he wanted to go with her. Asking her if he could hold her to him for a while, he had smiled his mischievous smile. They had swayed through his appartment shortly, before he was picked up by Ken, to go to junior's deposition. Maybe going to his home now was a good idea, to wait for him. To make plans for the weekend together. To sleep late tomorrow, have a late breakfast somewhere. Spend their sunday in bed, lazily wrapped up in eachother's arms.

Walking to the bar to ask for a telephone to phone her driver, she turned to the door in the hallway and the sudden commotion that was going on there. She decided to see what it was that had drawn the press together this time. She observed the group in amusement, snorting at the way the men moved around eachother on the stairs, pushing eachother away, yelling and shouting. She detected Walter in the crowd. He was agitated and yelled at the security men. Voices were raised, frantic clicking of camera's almost ruled over the sound of laughter and yelled greetings. As the apparent panic subsided and was replaced by a soft muttering, the protesting journalists were thrown out of the hall by the doormen and attendants one by one. Outside, a group of police men had arrived. Some of them were discussing frantically with the journalists who showed them their entrance passes, and demanded to be granted access to the hall again. They were unsuccesful.

After the outer door had been closed, and the security men had taken their initial positions next to it again, the rest of the crowd dispersed calmly, until a small group of guests was left standing with Walter. These men greeted eachother wholeheartedly, laughing out loud.

In the middle of it all, stood Perry Mason.

She sought for support against the doorway and pursed her lips.

The sight of the large man in his tuxedo caused some fierce, undefinable shivers. She just had to laugh at them, while closing her eyes for a moment, to open them again to start swooning. There was so much more of him now than the last time she had seen him standing in this hallway. Firmly shaking hands with firm hands. But the broad smile was the same. And the boyish eyes and the grin in them was the same. The dear wrinkles next to the eyes were new and were absolutely caused by smiling. She liked to think, they were caused by smiling at her, in the same way as hers had developed by smiling at him, and because of him. Life was such fun with Perry Mason in it.

He turned. Her eyes betrayed the amusement that was stirred up now that he was here.

Her lips parted at the sly smile on his face, when he suddenly looked straight into her eyes. He registered her flush and ignored what it elicited inside his body and mind. They moved closer.

" Would you care to dance with me? Miss Street? "

" I thought you weren't dancing tonight ? " The seductive tone was soft.

" Well, " the blue stare fondled its way downwards and went up again over her red dressed figure, halted at her cleavage shortly, and focussed on her eyes again. " I changed my mind. " It was the deepness of his voice that caught her breath. He held out his hand to her, and she took it with the same grace as in which she moved her brilliantly clad lithe figure towards his warm arms moments later on the dancefloor. She did not take her eyes off of his. The world around her could really disappear right now. Maybe it already had.

His right hand still fit perfectly on the curve of her waist. He squeezed it lightly, before caressing his hand to the small of her back, and upwards a little to the appropriate height for dancing, here, with her, in public. He found the appropriate spot was a little higher than usual, he noticed that with delight. It meant her heels were higher than usual. He made a mental note to remember that for some time later this night.

Dancing in the old days now was a matter of being close and swaying. The advantage of that was that they could keep conversing in a normal way, while holding eachother. In the new days, when nothing was supposed to be going on between them, dancing was basically a publicly accepted secret embrace, stretched and accomodated by the mercy of the music that was played. Nowadays, it was an embrace they both very obviously and visibly enjoyed, something that could be seen and explained by anyone who cared to have an opinion.

" I really didn't expected you to be here. "

" Do you mind ? "

" I don't. "

His right arm pulled her closer. He stiffled a little yawn, and smiled.

" How do you feel? "

" Perfect. "

" U-uh. New bow tie ? "

" Yes. The other one seemed to have been ruined somehow. "

" Did it take you long this time, putting it on ? "

" No. "

She pulled back a little to be able to see his face.

His face was dead serious. " Sticky tape. " This made her laugh out loud.

He pulled her back against him. " I borrowed some one else's expert fingers. "

She cocked one eyebrow. " Female fingers? "

He watched her hand in his left, brought it to his face and brushed it to his cheek and lips one second too long. " Oh, you know how I love female fingers … " She had to close her eyes at his tone of voice, and the gaze that accompanied it. " But no, this time Mr. Malansky was kind enough to help me out. On more accounts than one actually. He was very grateful for the opportunity we have given him. He agreed that this will be a very good practical lesson for him. He sends his regards, by the way. "

So, he had indeed asked Ken to help Laura defend Glenn junior, instead of helping her himself. She was silent. She was grateful for his brilliance and his love.

" I … Are you … I mean ... " Loss of words.

He brought the hand that was still holding hers, to her face, and put his index finger on her lips. His deep voice caressed her. " I love you, Della. "

She swayed in his arms, at ease, warm. He turned, she followed his lead. Wasn't that just how they had always done it?

" Can we get back on an earlier subject? " he asked her.

" Mmm-mmm. "

" I do prefer female fingers to take the tie off. Are you available? "

" I might be. "

" You might be. Depending on what? "

" I had quite some champaign already. I might not be able to meet your needs. "

" In that case, I'd better take you home. I'll make sure you'll have some more champaign, but after you took the tie off. " He stopped abruptly and offered her his arm.

She took it in one smooth movement. " You're the boss. "

The journalists and photographers they met on their way out, were allowed to be there, but were held in check by the police men that had arrived earlier.

" Do you have a comment or would you like to make a statement to the press about the Robertson case so far, sir ? Miss ?"

They turned their faces to eachother at the exact same moment. He leaned in just a little. Their lips were inches apart.

" Would you like to make a statement, Miss? " He asked her softly.

" Now? "

" Yes. "

" And kill some gossip? "

" Yes. "

" And meet my needs along the way? "

He crinkled his nose. " Amongst others. "

She gave her head a tilt, pursed her lips and answered his question with her eyes.

And then he kissed her.


End file.
